Dream

You glanced at Jorelle who stepped up to stand next to you on the balcony before you turned your gaze to the yard beneath you. It was busy as usual; servants, maids, stable boys and footmen rushing around, but your attention was at the corner where Robb sparred with Jon and Theon. You could swear he turned to check if you were watching from time to time especially when he delivered a harsh blow or blocked a strike of sword, and whenever he did, you couldn’t stop the smile pulling at your lips despite the storm in your mind.

“I’m just lost in thought,” you muttered and shook your head at the cup Jorelle offered you. “No thank you.”

“It’s regular herbal tea,” she assured you and held up the other cup in her hand. “Chamomile. The same as mine, I made sure of that.”

You bit inside your cheek, then took the cup from her and heaved a sigh.

“Thanks Jo.”

“Of course.”

The sound of clashing swords echoed in the yard as you sipped your tea, then subtly pointed at Robb and Jon who looked like they were having fun while Theon shot arrows at a target.

“How long have they been friends?”

“Hm?”

“Robb and Theon,” you said, “how long have they been friends?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Over a decade. Why?” 

“He’s been trying to sow seeds of discord between me and Robb,” you said calmly. “Behind my back.”

“You are jesting, surely?”

“He wants Robb to think that I rule over his decisions, somehow,” you said and Jorelle arched a brow.

“I’m guessing we’re pretending you do not?”

You shot her a playful look and she repressed a laugh.

“The worst-kept secret of Winterfell, got it.”

What was it that Silas had told you before? Robb hearing his vassals’ displeasure all day would not make any difference as long as you heard his pleasure at night?

You had a feeling that rule didn’t apply to his best friend.

“Is that why you’re so lost in thought?” she asked. “Because Theon said something to him? It means nothing, he won’t listen.”

“You’ve said it yourself, they’ve been friends over a decade,” you said. “And if Theon is trying to undermine me—”

“He cannot,” she said with a grimace. “Lord Robb is in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with him, but if Margaery said something about him, I wouldn’t dismiss her opinions just because I love Robb.”

“Something tells me your best friend is better at such games than Theon,” she reminded you. “Theon is not smart enough to undermine anyone, let alone you.”

“No, but he thinks he’s smart enough,” you said, drumming your nails on the railing of the balcony. “Tell me about their history.”

She turned around and leaned back to the railing, your attention switching from Robb to her.

“I was a child myself but everyone knows,” she started. “Balon Greyjoy, Theon’s father, he rebelled against the Iron Throne over a decade ago. Considering how close Lord Stark and the king are, of course the Stark army fought for the king and won. Theon’s other brothers were killed, leaving him as the heir, and he was brought here as a...ward.”

You made a noise of disagreement.

“Perce and Brax were sent as wards to Dorne, to my mother’s house,” you pointed out, Jorelle’s head shooting up at the mention of Perceon. “They can go wherever they want whenever they want, and they were basically raised as princes, spoiled beyond words. Which you’ve seen with Perce.”

“My list of insults for him grows each day.”

“Turn it into a book as you said, and we can send it to Dorne with Silas when he comes to visit me the next time.”

“Much appreciated.”

“Of course—my point is,” you added, “Theon is no ward, he’s a political hostage. Him being here makes sure that his father will not rebel again, nothing more.”

“I don’t think Lord Robb would let Lord Stark kill Theon if his father rebelled again.”

“No, but he still provides valuable leverage,” you said. “To keep his father in line.”

“Well, he wants everyone to think he’s a ward.”

 “No wonder,” you said. “Does he want to go back to the Iron Islands?”

“He hasn’t been there in so long,” Jorelle said. “But I mean, I would. Wouldn’t you? If you were in his place?”

“I would never be in his place,” you stated. “My family is actually smart, I would’ve been sent somewhere safe with my brothers if my father ever wanted to rebel. You’re supposed to keep the future of your house safe first before you make a move. And power or not, my father always prioritizes me.”

She bit back her grin.

“You know,” she said. “You’ve adapted to the North really well, but it’s times like these your southern demeanor comes out.”

“My southern demeanor?”

“I’ve noticed the same in your brothers too,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong but you’re all very…proud.”

“Oh come on.” A laugh escaped you. “The whole North is very proud.”

“We are,” she admitted, “but not like you.”

“We’re not that bad.” You scrunched up your nose. “I think. I don’t know, I’ve always thought I was the humble one among my brothers.”

“Does humble mean something else in the south?” she asked, drawing a giggle out of you, but you were distracted when someone touched the small of your back, making you look over your shoulder.

“Robb!” you exclaimed. “When did you…?”

 “Just now,” he said. “I’m told the Norreys and Burleys are to arrive in an hour. Will you greet them if they arrive earlier? I must take a quick bath, I’ve been sparring for two hours.”

 “Of course!” you said. “I’d love to, I’m quite excited to meet them. You go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Robb said and pressed a kiss on your temple before he walked away. You turned to Jorelle and gave her a grin, fixing your hair.

“Very well,” you said. “Let’s go and prepare for our guests.”

You hadn’t met anyone from the mountain clans before, and you could already tell they were not that different than the northerners you had met so far; except they wore ragged skins and studded leathers, carrying great two-handed swords and heavy axes. Their lady wives’ gowns were made of sturdy and warm velvets, embroidered beautifully by themselves if you had to guess, and as jewelry they favored bronze and beads rather than gold and gemstones. You and the rest of your ladies-in-waiting had invited Lady Norrey and Lady Burley to your guest chambers, along with their household of ladies that accompanied them on their trip.

And though you could tell Lady Norrey and Lady Burley didn’t exactly get along well like their husbands, they didn’t make it obvious.

“The road wasn’t too troublesome, I hope?”

Lady Norrey eyed Lady Burley before she turned to you.

“No, my lady,” she said. “It was not.”

“And for you, Lady Burley?”

“Though I questioned many times whether I should’ve stayed back, it went without any issues.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you said. “I’ve never been to the mountains, I’m told it’s very beautiful there.”

“You must visit when Lord Robb comes,” Lady Norrey said and Lady Burley nodded.

“We’ll host you well, my lady.”

“Oh I’ve heard all about your generosity with your guests!” you told them. “Robb always says the mountain clans cannot be defeated in war or in hospitality.”

Your effortless compliment made both of them smile.

“And I must admit, I am still getting used to northern customs,” you added. “It’s rather different than what I grew up with, but I hope you’ll like these tokens of welcome that we’ve prepared for you.”

You motioned at the footmen by the door and four servants entered the room, carrying two chests.

“My lady.” Lady Burley gasped. “There was no need for this.”

“I will ask you one thousand questions, it’s the least I could do to remedy that,” you jested while the servants put the chests in front of them, then opened the chests to reveal the fur cloaks.

“Oh…” Lady Norrey said, staring the crest of her house embroidered on velvet inside. “Such beautiful work.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you said. “I’ve embroidered it myself.”

Lady Burley ran her fingertips on the embroidered crest in her own wooden chest. “You’ve made this?”

You nodded while Lady Norrey grabbed the cloak and let out a breath, then reached into the chest to pull out a small wooden horse.

“And what is this?”

“Oh, I—” You cleared your throat while Lady Burley inspected the wooden cat in her hand. “I’m not sure if you’ve been told yet, it’s very possible you have not. Robb has mentioned that when the winter comes, many mothers and children come to Wintertown to survive. And I’m…” You licked your lips. “I am told most of the time, the men stay behind.”

Lady Norrey heaved a sigh. “That’s true.”

“We must all make hard choices,” Lady Burley said, “before winter makes it for us.”

“It breaks my heart to hear it,” you told them, “and while I cannot fix winter or make it gentle, I shared a suggestion with Robb, and he was kind enough to accept it. It’s a small gesture, but I’ve found even the smallest acts can ease one’s pain. I’ve asked our carpenters to make toys for the children who’ll come to Wintertown with their mothers, and I wanted to get your opinion on the quality of them.”  

“You’ll do this…” Lady Burley said, confusion laced in her tone, “for our people?”

“It sounds rather southern, I understand,” you said. “However, I’d like to make things easier for the women who’ll come here, in any way that I can. Me and Robb wed only moons ago so I’m not a mother myself, but I’m told the happiness of their children is of utmost importance to mothers.”

They exchanged glances, their sharp caution from before softening into a look of gentle compassion.

“You have a kind heart, my lady,” Lady Norrey spoke first. “I’m certain my people will appreciate your gifts.”

“So will mine,” Lady Burley said. “And so do I. Thank you.”  

You beamed at them, pride filling your chest.

“Of course!” you said. “It makes me very happy to hear that. Now, would you like me to show you your bedchambers so that you can rest before lunch?”

Well, that meeting had gone well.

You knew it was rather early to make assumptions, but you had a feeling you managed to earn the favor of Lady Norrey and Lady Burley. Seeing that Robb’s own meeting with their husbands lasted hours, it was quite clear that his attempts in securing truce went slower than yours, but eventually your maid Kyra let you know that he had left his solar and gone to the yard, so you decided to give him the news of your success without wasting any time.

“Hello Maester Luwin,” you greeted the old man as you walked past him in the hall, and he bowed.

“My lady,” he said. “Are you going to the yard?”

“I am. To see Robb.”

“Wonderful,” he said and handed you a scroll. “A raven has arrived from the capital. Would you give this to him?”   

“Absolutely,” you said and made your way down the hall, then stepped out to the yard to see Robb talking to Theon. You rolled your eyes and heaved a sigh, then approached them.

“And I’m still not convinced they won’t kill each other once we all go to sleep—hey,” Robb’s voice went softer the minute he saw you, and Theon pursed his lips, kicking at a rock with the tip of his boot. “How was it?”

“Good,” you said. “Very good actually. Yours wasn’t very peaceful, I’m guessing?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Robb murmured and you let out a small laugh.

“Here.” You handed him the scroll. “From the capital.”

Robb broke the seal to take a look, but when his eyes darted over the lines, his frown deepened by the second. A silence fell upon him, and you had to force yourself not to take a peek at the scroll he was holding, though from his expression you could tell it wasn’t good news. Fear churned your stomach, making you gulp.

“What’s happened?”

“My mother took Tyrion Lannister hostage and took him to Eyrie to answer for his family’s crimes,” he said. “And because of that, my father had a fight with Jaime Lannister.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”

“A fight?” Theon repeated. “What fight?”

“Jaime Lannister ambushed him and killed many of his men, and…” Robb said, his voice a murmur while he stared at the scroll. “Wounded him in the leg, it says.”

“Are the—are the girls alright?”

“They’re fine,” Robb told you, “they weren’t with him.”

“Jaime Lannister dared ambush Lord Stark?” Theon asked. “You must retaliate at once!”

Your head snapped up.

“Robb, no,” you said. “No, you must be cautious—”

“You must call the banners,” Theon told him and you shook your head fervently.

“You declare war against the throne if you call the banners!” you said. “An army going to the King’s Landing will be seen as an act of rebellion, no matter the cause—”

“The king’s brother-in-law attacked the Lord of Winterfell!”

“A fight breaks the king’s peace, nothing more,” you insisted. “Lord Stark and the king are close as brothers, Sansa is betrothed to Prince Joffrey; if there’s disrespect, it will be paid, but not with war.” 

“Jon doesn’t know about this, I need to find him,” Robb murmured before he walked away from you both to enter the keep, and Theon exhaled through his nose, then turned to you.

“You want to turn him into some southern milksop, don’t you?” he asked, making you raise your brows.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve heard me,” he said. “He must call the banners. I know you southerners cower from war, but he’s the future Warden of the North, not some Reach knight who rushes to entertain your whims like you’re used to.”

Anger crashed down on you so fast that for a moment you couldn’t even think straight while you gawked at him in disbelief.

How dare he?

How dare he talked to you like this?

You had to remember that you were in public, and although no one was actively listening just yet, they surely would start paying attention if you raised your voice or let your fury show on your face. This was not a good time; not when you had been trying so hard to prove yourself as the future Lady of Winterfell for everyone to see. You had to remain calm no matter how much you wanted to snap at him—or better yet, order a couple of footmen to drag him out of the yard and kick him out.

“I would worry less about my whims and more about his,” you managed to say. “You ought to be careful, Theon. Your presence here depends entirely on his wishes.”

You walked past him to go into the keep, but stopped dead in your tracks when he spoke.

“So does yours.”

…Alright then.

You turned around, your mouth stretching into an unhinged grin as your brows shot up, and you kept your gaze on him in complete silence.

“So does yours,” he repeated as if he wanted to emphasize his point, then pointed at the keep. “He’s my brother. You’re just his wife, nothing more. He’s not the first to be beguiled by a…”

There had to be something in his mind that warned him against voicing the rest of that sentence judging by how he stopped himself, but it seemed he decided to ignore it.

“By a southern harlot with tricks,” he spat. “But he’ll get bored, all men do. Your power will fade alongside his desire, sooner than late.”

The familiar insecurity tightened your throat but you were too trained to let the mask of amused nonchalance slip.

“Is that why he dragged you out of the Great Hall upon hearing of your disrespect merely a day after he met me?” you asked. “Is that why he keeps insisting that it’s my castle, my house, my family? Because from where I’m standing—and where I’m standing is way above your own standing—it doesn’t seem like his desire for me will fade.”

“For now,” he said through his teeth. “Husbands grow tired of their wives fast, and they cast them aside once the thrill is gone. The whole realm knows it.”

The whole realm indeed knew it, and so did you.

You knew that. Even the thought broke your heart, but history was full of women who were pushed aside by their husbands; whether they were queens or princesses or ladies, it never mattered. Those women may have held their titles, yet the mistress or the paramour or the mother of their husband’s bastard children came first in all but name.

But only a fool showed fear in front of their enemy.

“I’m not going to be cast aside,” you stated, your voice calm unlike his. “And I recognize that you’re too daft to come to any conclusions upon reflection, so it appears I must tell you outright. Nothing bad is going to happen to me, Theon. Ever. Robb’s love for me won’t fade, and even if it did, if one day I woke up and saw he holds love for me no longer, what do you think will happen? Do you assume I would just stay here and be miserable? Be disrespected and replaced, like you hope?”

“You are his wife,” he reminded you. “You’ll stay regardless of what he does, unless he sends you away.”

You scoffed a laugh.

“Funny how you think a couple words said in front of a tree could hold power over my wellbeing,” you said. “I’ll tell you what would happen if Robb disrespected me in any way. I’d write to my father who loves me, or my brother who would kill the entire realm for me.” You counted with your fingers. “Or my other brother who remains one of the wealthiest men in the Free Cities, or the other one who all but rules the Citadel, or the other two who live in my lady mother’s house in Dorne like princes. My only issue would be choosing where I’d spend the rest of my life adored and in luxury. I won’t be disrespected and I won’t stay where I don’t want to, you know why? Because my family made sure of that.”

Perhaps Jorelle had a point earlier today; you could be rather proud.

And it wasn’t just her, to be completely honest. Silas used to give you a similar criticism in the gentlest manner, saying that you were still that same spoiled girl though you swore up and down that you were not.

“Disputes, I am alright with,” he used to say. “Dispute with whoever you want, but when it comes to insults, my dearest sister, there must be a line. You must know when to stop twisting the knife.”

Silas was right as always; there had to be a line that you did not cross; not necessarily for the other person, but for your own wellbeing as well. No one could foresee every strategy the other had, and while people could overlook disputes and slights, they did not let go of the hurt or fear you caused.

You had seen it firsthand. Elinor had been your enemy ever since that argument at the dinner table, she never let go. She had turned your brother against you enough for both Silas and Margaery to perceive the threat she held for your future once your father would pass away, and while Elinor herself hadn’t seen you as a threat earlier, that had all changed when you told her you would make Robb take away Alton’s title and give it to another one of your brothers, awakening fear in her too early. Lady Olenna had told you many times that while you could hold be powerful, the enemy didn’t need to see all your weapons before you delivered the deadly blow, but that had escaped your mind, you had shown Elinor how much of a danger you could pose, and in return she had come up with the idea of moon tea to make sure Robb’s love for you would fade.

So, the wise thing was to control your anger and walk away now.

And yet…

Yet, you could not.

You could not, not when he said Robb would grow bored of you, not when he had told you that you could be replaced with someone else; the two things that you had been told not to allow over and over again, the cautionary tale many women in the realm had to go through.

It was an open wound that Robb had been carefully stitching together since you met, but Theon had the audacity to come near it with a knife.

So now you got to drive that same knife into his heart and twist it.

“Oh, I forgot,” you added, hissing in a breath. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.” 

His head flinched back as if you slapped him, but managed to pull himself together.

“I’m the heir to—”

“You’re a discarded heir to a failed house with a failed attempt of a rebellion,” you brushed him off. “No longer a threat but an afterthought to the realm. It could’ve been amusing if it weren’t so pitiful.”

If there was one lesson that your enmity with Elinor taught you, it was that family hurt people the most.

You had known it for a while now. Even with years of training to polish your insults to make them subtle and pretty, just like a plant that bloomed only poisonous flowers, the root was still there in your mind. Status and wealth could change, beauty could change, fortune could change, but the one thing that no one could change was their family.

The weak spot in everyone’s armor, as you had accidentally found out when you were one and ten.

“It’s not my fault your father handed you to Lord Stark like a dog,” you said, your voice silky. “My lord father loves me more than that. That’s why I came here to be the future lady of the north while you were brought here to be a political hostage, who in time got too comfortable to see the bars of his own cage.”

Theon’s jaw clenched as he glared daggers at you, and you gave him a bright smile.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll make sure you see them just fine, sooner than late.”

You glanced at Jorelle who stepped up to stand next to you on the balcony before you turned your gaze to the yard beneath you. It was busy as usual; servants, maids, stable boys and footmen rushing around, but your attention was at the corner where Robb sparred with Jon and Theon. You could swear he turned to check if you were watching from time to time especially when he delivered a harsh blow or blocked a strike of sword, and whenever he did, you couldn’t stop the smile pulling at your lips despite the storm in your mind.

“I’m just lost in thought,” you muttered and shook your head at the cup Jorelle offered you. “No thank you.”

“It’s regular herbal tea,” she assured you and held up the other cup in her hand. “Chamomile. The same as mine, I made sure of that.”

You bit inside your cheek, then took the cup from her and heaved a sigh.

“Thanks Jo.”

“Of course.”

The sound of clashing swords echoed in the yard as you sipped your tea, then subtly pointed at Robb and Jon who looked like they were having fun while Theon shot arrows at a target.

“How long have they been friends?”

“Hm?”

“Robb and Theon,” you said, “how long have they been friends?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Over a decade. Why?” 

“He’s been trying to sow seeds of discord between me and Robb,” you said calmly. “Behind my back.”

“You are jesting, surely?”

“He wants Robb to think that I rule over his decisions, somehow,” you said and Jorelle arched a brow.

“I’m guessing we’re pretending you do not?”

You shot her a playful look and she repressed a laugh.

“The worst-kept secret of Winterfell, got it.”

What was it that Silas had told you before? Robb hearing his vassals’ displeasure all day would not make any difference as long as you heard his pleasure at night?

You had a feeling that rule didn’t apply to his best friend.

“Is that why you’re so lost in thought?” she asked. “Because Theon said something to him? It means nothing, he won’t listen.”

“You’ve said it yourself, they’ve been friends over a decade,” you said. “And if Theon is trying to undermine me—”

“He cannot,” she said with a grimace. “Lord Robb is in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with him, but if Margaery said something about him, I wouldn’t dismiss her opinions just because I love Robb.”

“Something tells me your best friend is better at such games than Theon,” she reminded you. “Theon is not smart enough to undermine anyone, let alone you.”

“No, but he thinks he’s smart enough,” you said, drumming your nails on the railing of the balcony. “Tell me about their history.”

She turned around and leaned back to the railing, your attention switching from Robb to her.

“I was a child myself but everyone knows,” she started. “Balon Greyjoy, Theon’s father, he rebelled against the Iron Throne over a decade ago. Considering how close Lord Stark and the king are, of course the Stark army fought for the king and won. Theon’s other brothers were killed, leaving him as the heir, and he was brought here as a...ward.”

You made a noise of disagreement.

“Perce and Brax were sent as wards to Dorne, to my mother’s house,” you pointed out, Jorelle’s head shooting up at the mention of Perceon. “They can go wherever they want whenever they want, and they were basically raised as princes, spoiled beyond words. Which you’ve seen with Perce.”

“My list of insults for him grows each day.”

“Turn it into a book as you said, and we can send it to Dorne with Silas when he comes to visit me the next time.”

“Much appreciated.”

“Of course—my point is,” you added, “Theon is no ward, he’s a political hostage. Him being here makes sure that his father will not rebel again, nothing more.”

“I don’t think Lord Robb would let Lord Stark kill Theon if his father rebelled again.”

“No, but he still provides valuable leverage,” you said. “To keep his father in line.”

“Well, he wants everyone to think he’s a ward.”

 “No wonder,” you said. “Does he want to go back to the Iron Islands?”

“He hasn’t been there in so long,” Jorelle said. “But I mean, I would. Wouldn’t you? If you were in his place?”

“I would never be in his place,” you stated. “My family is actually smart, I would’ve been sent somewhere safe with my brothers if my father ever wanted to rebel. You’re supposed to keep the future of your house safe first before you make a move. And power or not, my father always prioritizes me.”

She bit back her grin.

“You know,” she said. “You’ve adapted to the North really well, but it’s times like these your southern demeanor comes out.”

“My southern demeanor?”

“I’ve noticed the same in your brothers too,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong but you’re all very…proud.”

“Oh come on.” A laugh escaped you. “The whole North is very proud.”

“We are,” she admitted, “but not like you.”

“We’re not that bad.” You scrunched up your nose. “I think. I don’t know, I’ve always thought I was the humble one among my brothers.”

“Does humble mean something else in the south?” she asked, drawing a giggle out of you, but you were distracted when someone touched the small of your back, making you look over your shoulder.

“Robb!” you exclaimed. “When did you…?”

 “Just now,” he said. “I’m told the Norreys and Burleys are to arrive in an hour. Will you greet them if they arrive earlier? I must take a quick bath, I’ve been sparring for two hours.”

 “Of course!” you said. “I’d love to, I’m quite excited to meet them. You go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Robb said and pressed a kiss on your temple before he walked away. You turned to Jorelle and gave her a grin, fixing your hair.

“Very well,” you said. “Let’s go and prepare for our guests.”

You hadn’t met anyone from the mountain clans before, and you could already tell they were not that different than the northerners you had met so far; except they wore ragged skins and studded leathers, carrying great two-handed swords and heavy axes. Their lady wives’ gowns were made of sturdy and warm velvets, embroidered beautifully by themselves if you had to guess, and as jewelry they favored bronze and beads rather than gold and gemstones. You and the rest of your ladies-in-waiting had invited Lady Norrey and Lady Burley to your guest chambers, along with their household of ladies that accompanied them on their trip.

And though you could tell Lady Norrey and Lady Burley didn’t exactly get along well like their husbands, they didn’t make it obvious.

“The road wasn’t too troublesome, I hope?”

Lady Norrey eyed Lady Burley before she turned to you.

“No, my lady,” she said. “It was not.”

“And for you, Lady Burley?”

“Though I questioned many times whether I should’ve stayed back, it went without any issues.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you said. “I’ve never been to the mountains, I’m told it’s very beautiful there.”

“You must visit when Lord Robb comes,” Lady Norrey said and Lady Burley nodded.

“We’ll host you well, my lady.”

“Oh I’ve heard all about your generosity with your guests!” you told them. “Robb always says the mountain clans cannot be defeated in war or in hospitality.”

Your effortless compliment made both of them smile.

“And I must admit, I am still getting used to northern customs,” you added. “It’s rather different than what I grew up with, but I hope you’ll like these tokens of welcome that we’ve prepared for you.”

You motioned at the footmen by the door and four servants entered the room, carrying two chests.

“My lady.” Lady Burley gasped. “There was no need for this.”

“I will ask you one thousand questions, it’s the least I could do to remedy that,” you jested while the servants put the chests in front of them, then opened the chests to reveal the fur cloaks.

“Oh…” Lady Norrey said, staring the crest of her house embroidered on velvet inside. “Such beautiful work.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you said. “I’ve embroidered it myself.”

Lady Burley ran her fingertips on the embroidered crest in her own wooden chest. “You’ve made this?”

You nodded while Lady Norrey grabbed the cloak and let out a breath, then reached into the chest to pull out a small wooden horse.

“And what is this?”

“Oh, I—” You cleared your throat while Lady Burley inspected the wooden cat in her hand. “I’m not sure if you’ve been told yet, it’s very possible you have not. Robb has mentioned that when the winter comes, many mothers and children come to Wintertown to survive. And I’m…” You licked your lips. “I am told most of the time, the men stay behind.”

Lady Norrey heaved a sigh. “That’s true.”

“We must all make hard choices,” Lady Burley said, “before winter makes it for us.”

“It breaks my heart to hear it,” you told them, “and while I cannot fix winter or make it gentle, I shared a suggestion with Robb, and he was kind enough to accept it. It’s a small gesture, but I’ve found even the smallest acts can ease one’s pain. I’ve asked our carpenters to make toys for the children who’ll come to Wintertown with their mothers, and I wanted to get your opinion on the quality of them.”  

“You’ll do this…” Lady Burley said, confusion laced in her tone, “for our people?”

“It sounds rather southern, I understand,” you said. “However, I’d like to make things easier for the women who’ll come here, in any way that I can. Me and Robb wed only moons ago so I’m not a mother myself, but I’m told the happiness of their children is of utmost importance to mothers.”

They exchanged glances, their sharp caution from before softening into a look of gentle compassion.

“You have a kind heart, my lady,” Lady Norrey spoke first. “I’m certain my people will appreciate your gifts.”

“So will mine,” Lady Burley said. “And so do I. Thank you.”  

You beamed at them, pride filling your chest.

“Of course!” you said. “It makes me very happy to hear that. Now, would you like me to show you your bedchambers so that you can rest before lunch?”

Well, that meeting had gone well.

You knew it was rather early to make assumptions, but you had a feeling you managed to earn the favor of Lady Norrey and Lady Burley. Seeing that Robb’s own meeting with their husbands lasted hours, it was quite clear that his attempts in securing truce went slower than yours, but eventually your maid Kyra let you know that he had left his solar and gone to the yard, so you decided to give him the news of your success without wasting any time.

“Hello Maester Luwin,” you greeted the old man as you walked past him in the hall, and he bowed.

“My lady,” he said. “Are you going to the yard?”

“I am. To see Robb.”

“Wonderful,” he said and handed you a scroll. “A raven has arrived from the capital. Would you give this to him?”   

“Absolutely,” you said and made your way down the hall, then stepped out to the yard to see Robb talking to Theon. You rolled your eyes and heaved a sigh, then approached them.

“And I’m still not convinced they won’t kill each other once we all go to sleep—hey,” Robb’s voice went softer the minute he saw you, and Theon pursed his lips, kicking at a rock with the tip of his boot. “How was it?”

“Good,” you said. “Very good actually. Yours wasn’t very peaceful, I’m guessing?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Robb murmured and you let out a small laugh.

“Here.” You handed him the scroll. “From the capital.”

Robb broke the seal to take a look, but when his eyes darted over the lines, his frown deepened by the second. A silence fell upon him, and you had to force yourself not to take a peek at the scroll he was holding, though from his expression you could tell it wasn’t good news. Fear churned your stomach, making you gulp.

“What’s happened?”

“My mother took Tyrion Lannister hostage and took him to Eyrie to answer for his family’s crimes,” he said. “And because of that, my father had a fight with Jaime Lannister.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”

“A fight?” Theon repeated. “What fight?”

“Jaime Lannister ambushed him and killed many of his men, and…” Robb said, his voice a murmur while he stared at the scroll. “Wounded him in the leg, it says.”

“Are the—are the girls alright?”

“They’re fine,” Robb told you, “they weren’t with him.”

“Jaime Lannister dared ambush Lord Stark?” Theon asked. “You must retaliate at once!”

Your head snapped up.

“Robb, no,” you said. “No, you must be cautious—”

“You must call the banners,” Theon told him and you shook your head fervently.

“You declare war against the throne if you call the banners!” you said. “An army going to the King’s Landing will be seen as an act of rebellion, no matter the cause—”

“The king’s brother-in-law attacked the Lord of Winterfell!”

“A fight breaks the king’s peace, nothing more,” you insisted. “Lord Stark and the king are close as brothers, Sansa is betrothed to Prince Joffrey; if there’s disrespect, it will be paid, but not with war.” 

“Jon doesn’t know about this, I need to find him,” Robb murmured before he walked away from you both to enter the keep, and Theon exhaled through his nose, then turned to you.

“You want to turn him into some southern milksop, don’t you?” he asked, making you raise your brows.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve heard me,” he said. “He must call the banners. I know you southerners cower from war, but he’s the future Warden of the North, not some Reach knight who rushes to entertain your whims like you’re used to.”

Anger crashed down on you so fast that for a moment you couldn’t even think straight while you gawked at him in disbelief.

How dare he?

How dare he talked to you like this?

You had to remember that you were in public, and although no one was actively listening just yet, they surely would start paying attention if you raised your voice or let your fury show on your face. This was not a good time; not when you had been trying so hard to prove yourself as the future Lady of Winterfell for everyone to see. You had to remain calm no matter how much you wanted to snap at him—or better yet, order a couple of footmen to drag him out of the yard and kick him out.

“I would worry less about my whims and more about his,” you managed to say. “You ought to be careful, Theon. Your presence here depends entirely on his wishes.”

You walked past him to go into the keep, but stopped dead in your tracks when he spoke.

“So does yours.”

…Alright then.

You turned around, your mouth stretching into an unhinged grin as your brows shot up, and you kept your gaze on him in complete silence.

“So does yours,” he repeated as if he wanted to emphasize his point, then pointed at the keep. “He’s my brother. You’re just his wife, nothing more. He’s not the first to be beguiled by a…”

There had to be something in his mind that warned him against voicing the rest of that sentence judging by how he stopped himself, but it seemed he decided to ignore it.

“By a southern harlot with tricks,” he spat. “But he’ll get bored, all men do. Your power will fade alongside his desire, sooner than late.”

The familiar insecurity tightened your throat but you were too trained to let the mask of amused nonchalance slip.

“Is that why he dragged you out of the Great Hall upon hearing of your disrespect merely a day after he met me?” you asked. “Is that why he keeps insisting that it’s my castle, my house, my family? Because from where I’m standing—and where I’m standing is way above your own standing—it doesn’t seem like his desire for me will fade.”

“For now,” he said through his teeth. “Husbands grow tired of their wives fast, and they cast them aside once the thrill is gone. The whole realm knows it.”

The whole realm indeed knew it, and so did you.

You knew that. Even the thought broke your heart, but history was full of women who were pushed aside by their husbands; whether they were queens or princesses or ladies, it never mattered. Those women may have held their titles, yet the mistress or the paramour or the mother of their husband’s bastard children came first in all but name.

But only a fool showed fear in front of their enemy.

“I’m not going to be cast aside,” you stated, your voice calm unlike his. “And I recognize that you’re too daft to come to any conclusions upon reflection, so it appears I must tell you outright. Nothing bad is going to happen to me, Theon. Ever. Robb’s love for me won’t fade, and even if it did, if one day I woke up and saw he holds love for me no longer, what do you think will happen? Do you assume I would just stay here and be miserable? Be disrespected and replaced, like you hope?”

“You are his wife,” he reminded you. “You’ll stay regardless of what he does, unless he sends you away.”

You scoffed a laugh.

“Funny how you think a couple words said in front of a tree could hold power over my wellbeing,” you said. “I’ll tell you what would happen if Robb disrespected me in any way. I’d write to my father who loves me, or my brother who would kill the entire realm for me.” You counted with your fingers. “Or my other brother who remains one of the wealthiest men in the Free Cities, or the other one who all but rules the Citadel, or the other two who live in my lady mother’s house in Dorne like princes. My only issue would be choosing where I’d spend the rest of my life adored and in luxury. I won’t be disrespected and I won’t stay where I don’t want to, you know why? Because my family made sure of that.”

Perhaps Jorelle had a point earlier today; you could be rather proud.

And it wasn’t just her, to be completely honest. Silas used to give you a similar criticism in the gentlest manner, saying that you were still that same spoiled girl though you swore up and down that you were not.

“Disputes, I am alright with,” he used to say. “Dispute with whoever you want, but when it comes to insults, my dearest sister, there must be a line. You must know when to stop twisting the knife.”

Silas was right as always; there had to be a line that you did not cross; not necessarily for the other person, but for your own wellbeing as well. No one could foresee every strategy the other had, and while people could overlook disputes and slights, they did not let go of the hurt or fear you caused.

You had seen it firsthand. Elinor had been your enemy ever since that argument at the dinner table, she never let go. She had turned your brother against you enough for both Silas and Margaery to perceive the threat she held for your future once your father would pass away, and while Elinor herself hadn’t seen you as a threat earlier, that had all changed when you told her you would make Robb take away Alton’s title and give it to another one of your brothers, awakening fear in her too early. Lady Olenna had told you many times that while you could hold be powerful, the enemy didn’t need to see all your weapons before you delivered the deadly blow, but that had escaped your mind, you had shown Elinor how much of a danger you could pose, and in return she had come up with the idea of moon tea to make sure Robb’s love for you would fade.

So, the wise thing was to control your anger and walk away now.

And yet…

Yet, you could not.

You could not, not when he said Robb would grow bored of you, not when he had told you that you could be replaced with someone else; the two things that you had been told not to allow over and over again, the cautionary tale many women in the realm had to go through.

It was an open wound that Robb had been carefully stitching together since you met, but Theon had the audacity to come near it with a knife.

So now you got to drive that same knife into his heart and twist it.

“Oh, I forgot,” you added, hissing in a breath. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.” 

His head flinched back as if you slapped him, but managed to pull himself together.

“I’m the heir to—”

“You’re a discarded heir to a failed house with a failed attempt of a rebellion,” you brushed him off. “No longer a threat but an afterthought to the realm. It could’ve been amusing if it weren’t so pitiful.”

If there was one lesson that your enmity with Elinor taught you, it was that family hurt people the most.

You had known it for a while now. Even with years of training to polish your insults to make them subtle and pretty, just like a plant that bloomed only poisonous flowers, the root was still there in your mind. Status and wealth could change, beauty could change, fortune could change, but the one thing that no one could change was their family.

The weak spot in everyone’s armor, as you had accidentally found out when you were one and ten.

“It’s not my fault your father handed you to Lord Stark like a dog,” you said, your voice silky. “My lord father loves me more than that. That’s why I came here to be the future lady of the north while you were brought here to be a political hostage, who in time got too comfortable to see the bars of his own cage.”

Theon’s jaw clenched as he glared daggers at you, and you gave him a bright smile.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll make sure you see them just fine, sooner than late.”